


Delta Seven Epsilon Niner

by Amuly



Category: Artifice
Genre: Cuddling and Snuggling, Hair, M/M, Post-Coital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 10:52:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amuly/pseuds/Amuly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deacon and Jeff put together a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delta Seven Epsilon Niner

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Major spoilers for all of [Artifice](http://webcomics.yaoi911.com/archive/artifice-title-page/)!! Do not read this first – it'll ruin the great ending!

Jeff's hair was silky smooth beneath Deacon's fingers. Deacon loved to play with Jeff's hair. It was so outside Deacon's typical domain of experience; in his military training, all the A.P.'s hair was sheered short. Prickly hair. That was what Deacon was used to. Not soft. Not fluffy. Nothing like Jeff's.

“Your face is doing that thing again.” Jeff's voice cut through Deacon's thoughts.

Deacon blinked, then turned his head so he could peer down at Jeff, who was tucked into his chest. Jeff was grinning up at him, brown eyes mischievous. Deacon smiled down at him. “What thing?” he queried.

“This face.” Jeff pulled his brows together and widened his eyes, mouth opening slightly. Deacon examined the expression – a supposed imitation of his own – and tried to figure out what emotion that face held.

“I was making a face associated with shock?” he tried.

Jeff's laugh was loud in the isolation of his quarters. Deacon smiled. He liked Jeff's laugh. It made wherever they were feel full, occupied. “You jackass!” Jeff teased, punching Deacon lightly on the chest. “You were doing your 'I-am-an-android-and-trying-to-figure-out-these-humans' _face_.”

Deacon frowned. “I have a face for that?”

Jeff nodded. “So, what's it this time? Wondering about sweat? Jizz? Oh gosh, mine doesn't taste gross to you, does it? I'm pretty sure it's normal, I mean-”

“Your hair,” Deacon said, ignoring Jeff's pseudo-panic. Lifting his hand, Deacon paused a beat to run his hand through that silken smoothness again. “It's much softer than any I've felt.”

“Aw, geeze, you're just saying that to get into my pants,” Jeff teased.

Glancing between them, Deacon observed their mutually nude states with raised eyebrows. “That would be energy wasted,” he commented. Then he snuck his hand down to grope at Jeff's flaccid penis, squeezing it lightly. The action caused a catch in Jeff's breathing and a small upward movement in his hips. Deacon smiled at the reaction. He liked very much when Jeff reacted positively to his ministrations.

A small light flashed behind Deacon's eyes, distracting him from Jeff's impressively short refractory time. Jeff seemed to notice, because he grew still curled up against Deacon. “What?” he whispered, mirth absent from his voice.

“One month,” Deacon stated, tone clipped. One month to retrieval. One month until... one month for Deacon to figure out what he was going to do. 

“They're going to kill me.” Jeff stated, voice tight.

“There's no reason for them to. They don't... You know nothing. I just need long enough to tell them that, to make them realize...”

“You know that's not gonna make a difference. They're going to kill me,” Jeff repeated.

Deacon brought his arms up to Jeff's shoulders, wrapping him up in a crushing hug. Not actually crushing – because he  _could_ do that – but fiercely enough to communicate just how unpleasant that thought was to him, without hurting Jeff. And the thought  _was_ unpleasant: horribly, heart-clenchingly so. He hated it. A million bits inside of him cried out at the thought, at the danger Jeff was in, pulling him a thousand different directions. He was scared, angry, hurt, sad, hopeless, hopeful... It was a lot to process. A lot that Deacon wasn't  _ used _ to processing. He could analyze a room full of enemies in an instant, determine their weak points, rate of respiration, coverage available to him, and more, all in the space of a human heart beat. But right now, lying in this bed and thinking about one possible fate that might befall one human, Deacon found himself overwhelmed.

“They won't,” Deacon growled. Even as he said it, though, Deacon knew it wasn't true. Not necessarily. He  _ might _ succeed in keeping Jeff alive, either through reasoning and explanation or... other methods. But it wasn't a pre-determined outcome.

Jeff was tense against him, face buried firmly against Deacon's chest. He was doing his best to stay quiet, but Deacon could hear his breathing pick up slightly with fear, feel his heart pound just a little faster in his chest. He could feel the minute little tremors that passed through Jeff's body and into his, little bursts of nerves crying out against his fate.

“There's something we could do.” Deacon spoke even as the thought occurred to him, spoke before he had time to think about what he was saying. But, yes. There  _ was _ something they could do. A contingency plan, just in case things all “went to hell,” as Jeff would put it.

One of Jeff's hands was tracing a line down Deacon's hip, following what was supposed to look like bone and muscle buried beneath his skin. “Yeah yeah: you'll  _ talk _ to them. Like that'll work...”

“No.” Deacon captured Jeff's hand, holding it firmly against his hip. Jeff looked up at that, expression curious as his eyes darted between Deacon's, like he was trying to figure out something completely inscrutable. 

“Deacon?”

“There's something else.”

Deacon stared down at Jeff, turning the option over in his mind. It went against what he learned. It went against what he had been programmed. It went against everything he was built to do. Override codes were not his to give out. Override codes were for the people who owned him, the people in charge of him, to keep and distribute as they saw fit. He couldn't make that judgment call. He was a soldier: he followed orders and plans; he didn't come up with them himself. But... Deacon stared into Jeff's trusting eyes.  _ Jeff _ . 

“There's something you could do. Something you have to remember. As a contingency.”

Jeff nodded, patiently – for once – waiting for Deacon to continue. “Yeah?” he prompted after a moment. His fingers rubbed encouragingly against Deacon's hip, where they were still trapped beneath his hand.

Reaching up with his other hand, Deacon ran his fingers through Jeff's hair. So soft. So beautiful. “I need you to remember this,” Deacon ordered. “Override Delta Seven Epsilon Niner. Override Delta Seven Epsilon Niner. You have to remember it...”

  
  



End file.
